The Incredible Brit
by Nimue Nightingale
Summary: America and England are both at America's house and watching Jersey Shore...and England gets angry...really angry.


Note from author:

Arse is the old english form of ass.

:)

This isn't supposed to be written that well and it isn't supposed to be taken seriously. So, don't take this seriously, lol :)

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The Incredible Brit!

"America? Why do you enjoy this?" England groaned at Alfred, who's eyes were fixated on Snooki chugging a beer on the television set. "Why do I even come over here anymore?"

"Dude, this show is awesome! Don't tell me you-"

"Enjoy dignified entertainment?" Arthur interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Of course not! I love just sitting in front of a box all day and watching stupid people barhopping!" he droned sarcastically.

"At least I don't talk to my imaginary pet unicorn!" America whined, still staring at the brain cell damaging Jersey Shore.

"I resent that statement!" England was now getting extremely annoyed.

"Do NOT make me go all Andrew Jackson on your arse!" Alfred teased

"I'm getting angry. You don't like me when I'm angry." England murmured with pure venom and danger in his voice.

America turned to England, smiling. "Stop scare-" his eyes widened. "Dude, you're turning purple."

"Iggy angry…" the now grape-colored England growled.

"Dude! You're freaking me out! Cut the crap!" America leapt from the couch. "Holy Lincoln! He's growing!"

It is a true tale, for now, England was rapidly expanding. Buttons were popping on his 'fashionable' shirt and his trousers were ripping until they were nothing more than rugged shorts. His eyebrows grew with him. Instead of taking up about a third of his forehead, they were now barely touching his hairline. Iggy grew and grew and grew, until even America's ceiling that was only fit for a hero, wasn't big enough for him to grow the entire way.

"Oh, crap! Why England? Why must you become a super amazing movie hero before me? WHY?"

"Iggy angry" the enlarged version on England was now slowly stomping one foot at a time towards the trembling America.

"Maybe we can talk this through. How about a cheeseburger from McDonalds?" America shook his hands in front of himself, trying to ward Iggy away from him.

In response, Iggy roared loudly and smashed his fist into the television, breaking Snooki's plastic nose and the screen itself.

"No! My TV!" America screeched before his attention went back towards the purple monster and the fear in his eyes returned. "Okay! I'm cheap! How about picking stuff up from Kroger and we'll make cheeseburgers?" he pled while continuing to back away from Iggy,

"Iggy angry…"

"I get it! That is the one thousandth time you have said that!" America glanced at the front door, which was now parallel to himself. '_Thank Washington'_ he thought. "Okay. Um. So." He pointed to the door. "It seems you have some venting to do so I'll just be, um, leaving." With those words, America bolted towards the knob. "FREEDOM! LIBERTY!"

He reached the door…

He turned the handle…

And was outside.

"Uh huh. Yeah huh. I'm out of the house." He rhymed. "Yeah huh. Ye-oh!" and the next thing Alfred knew, he was imprisoned in one of Iggy's violet hands. "Oh sh_eeat_!" he screamed. "No, no, no! England! Um…RELEASE!" he demanded, even knowing that if England were a dog, he wouldn't be trained and if her were, he wouldn't take orders. America was pounding on Iggy's fists, screaming wildly.

"Oh, _mon dieu_, this is quite a sight." America jerked his head and looked down, seeing France looking up at him.

"France! Help me!"

"No can do, _mon petit_. Zis is what sexual tension does to _toi_, no?"

"Oh, dear God, you frog!"

"Hon hon hon." France chuckled while walking off.

"Noooo!" America attacked Iggy's fists even more desperate than before.

"Iggy angry…"

"Please!" America punched Iggy's knuckles one, final time before erupting into tears. "I'm sorry, England! Please!"

"Iggy…"

"Angry! Yeah! I know!" America wailed. He felt something stroking the top of his head and suddenly realized that England was petting him with his other available thumb. "Go ahead! Crush my brains! You've wanted to since seventeen freaking seventy six!" He closed his eyes and awaited for the end to come, but it didn't. America hesitantly creaked open one eye and tilted his heroic cranium up to get a glimpse of the monster version of England and saw that he had the same beautiful eyes that he had always had while being…well, England never acted quite human anyways. America boldly dared to look at Iggy directly in the eyes that only gazed back at America's own.

"Iggy can't kill him. Iggy don't want to" the monster whimpered. Slowly, the giant lowered his hand to the ground, not once taking his large, green, eyebrow covered eyes off Alfred.

"Hon hon hon. I am back. Do you still need _mon_ assistance?"

Before Alfred could respond, he felt Iggy sharply yank his hand back up and growled protectively. America glanced at France, stunned and drew his breath in sharply. The frog was not alone. He was accompanied by Prussia and Spain. Together, the three were known as the Bad Touch Trio.

"This isn't good." America muttered.

"Okay. Since I am awesome and all. I should be the first to shoot at this creature!" Prussia stated.

"Why are you going to shoot him? What has he done to you?" America was horrified. Iggy was completely harmless and Prussia, being Prussia, didn't care!

"Because it will be awesome!" Prussia retorted. "Now, surrender and show spirit that Italy would be proud of or be stubborn and you will perish the hard and awesome way!"

"Never!" America shouted. "I will prevail!" He pointed to the North, away from the Bad Touch Trio. "Go Iggy, Go!" America's demand was said to have been heard even by Greece, and if you know Greece, you know he was probably sleeping. With America's cry, Iggy began to run as fast as his large, plum-shaded feet could take him with Alfred in his right hand. America had never felt such a rush of adrenaline. The wind streamed through his blonde hair. He was safe in Iggy's hands though danged seemed to surround him. "Yahooooo!" he shouted, releasing his excitement. His eyes closed as he breathed in the rapidly moving air. He dared to let go of Iggy's hand and spread his arms out as if he were a bald eagle. He felt freer than he did the day the Declaration of Independence was signed. He kept his arms out even when the air had made his fingers feel frozen. A sudden jolt of warmth notified America that Iggy had stopped running. They had somehow come to the middle of New York City.

"How the Washington did we end up here?" America looked around. Taxicabs were stopping and people were pointing with their mouths wide open.

"It's horrendous!"

"It's gonna kill us!"

America heard Iggy groan and realized that he could understand them still.

"Don't listen to them, Iggy." America touched the giant's thumb, reassuringly.

"There they are!" America turned, seeing the Bad Touch Trio once more. "Listen to the awesome words of me! Get them!" Prussia ordered with dangerous narcissism lining his voice.

"We have to run, Iggy!" America pointed to the Empire State Building which stood above all other towers. "Climb that one! Let the hero within you rise! Be the hero! Onward!" America shouted and Iggy did exactly what he had commanded. His large knees began to move up and down, pushing him rapidly to the skyscraper. America felt Iggy's hands press on the windows and heard the glass break as his monster pulled himself up. After climbing a fourth of the tower, Iggy placed America on his back to gain speed. He was fast. Alfred could feel the ascension of the tower in his bones. He could sense the panicking citizens below them pointing. They didn't matter. He just wanted to be safe (and to be the heroes). He concentrated on that goal until he felt Iggy drop off at the top and onto the small area on top of the Empire State Building. His purple England pulled him up by the collar of his shirt and set him on the ground. It was then that America dared to look many specks…the other buildings that were not as magnificent as this one were surrounding them in a sea of lights. The sun was large and the sky the color of carnations. America turned to Iggy.

"England. You have to turn back to normal. Prussia is going to shoot you even if France gets you first and I don't want to think about what could happen then." Iggy responded by lightly pressing America's cheek with his large, warm hand which was the color of plums. America shut his eyes and placed his own small, pale hand on Iggy's and held it there, afraid of losing it. Alfred shut his eyes wanting to spend eternity in that moment. That moment with just them. Forever.

"Well, well, well." A voice invaded the silence. It was Spain.

"Spain!' America stood in front of Iggy. "You will never get to him!"

"Oh, I won't." Spain grinned mischeviously. "But my tomatoes will!"

"Huh?" Alfred was confused.

"Eat my delicious fruit!" Spain then proceeded to throw a ripe, scarlet tomato directly at Iggy's head, hitting it. Iggy screeched in utter annoyance.

"You dumbass! Tomato is a veggie!" America cackled.

"Um, actually, no." Spain was dumbfounded.

"Oh, _mon dieu_! Spain and America are in a fight! America, I hope you like my roses!" America barely had processed France's words in his brain when he heard a cry of pain ran alongside that annoying frog's voice. A rose was now protruding from his Iggy's arm, blood tricking down his arm.

"No!"

"Is the awesome one the last to strike? The best is always last!" Prussia was balanced on top of the building, his eyes virulently smirking on them, mocking.

"Please, Prussia! What can I do to make you stop?"

Prussia's lips curled up, evilly. "Nothing." With that, he drew out a gun and pointed it at Iggy.

"No, Prussia!"

"THIS. IS. AWESOMMMMMEEEE!" he pulled the trigger.

It happened in a spin of light and silver. The last America saw of Iggy was his purple figure falling down, down, down, down-

"America! Why is is everything you write a story, I die?" One of England's large eyebrows were raised.

America glanced up from the book he had been reading aloud from and beamed at Britain. "It irritates you, doesn't it?"

"Ugh. You weren't the hero of all this time. The story was good in that sense."

"I was the hero!"

"Hm? Oh really? You sounded more whiny in that one!"

"No!" America cried. "I wasn't! You were supposed to be the idiot in this! You were a large…purple…THING!"

"What? You bloody wanker!"

And now England…

…was angry.

Moral of the Story- Don't get bored in school. The result it a Hetalia fanfiction that oddly resembles the Incredible Hulk and King Kong. Also, tomatoes are a fruit.


End file.
